


Come On Baby, Don't Fear the Reaper

by gunnsnroses13



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: All the titles are classic rock songs because yes, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Monsters, Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soul is deffo some kind of beast, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunnsnroses13/pseuds/gunnsnroses13
Summary: On the road looking for her mother after she left on a hunt, Maka stumbles across what she can only call an anomaly; Blake called him an abomination. Red eyes, white hair, rows of teeth as sharp as a vamp’s canines, he claims he doesn’t know what he is either, or what he used to be. Now she must try and balance not losing her mother’s trail and trying to help the grouchy slouchy Thing Called Soul get back to normal.The Supernatural AU no one asked for.





	1. Simple Man

Admittedly, the first time she saw him, she almost put one in his chest.

               How could you blame her though? He was cowering in an abandoned hunter shack, eyes red as wine and teeth as sharp as glass, hair pale as the moonlight. When he saw her, he dropped the container of peanut butter and backed himself against the dusty kitchen counter, those devil eyes darting to the window in panic. Too bad someone had been smart enough to weld iron bars across its surface.

               “What the fuck are you and how the fuck did you get in here?” Maka hissed, cocking her pistol at him.

               The creature’s hands flew up to the air in defense. “I don’t know!” It sputtered, chest heaving. “Well, I do know how I got in, since I picked the lock. But I swear I was just finding shelter for the night.”

               Maka’s hand quickly reached for the bottle strapped to her thigh, unstopped it, and coated its contents onto him. Slowly, he wiped his face, panicked confusion flashing across his ghoulish features. He was staring at her like she had lost her mind. Like he didn’t look like something Hell spat up. The pistol never stopped pointing directly at his heart, but she moved her finger from the trigger- for now.

               “What’s your name?”

               “Uh, you can call me Soul. It’s the first thing I saw written down when I woke up three days ago.” When he shifted slightly, Maka instantly snapped her gaze back down the barrel. ‘Soul’ froze once again. “But I think I used to be called something else, before.”

               “Before what?”

               “I don’t know. All I remember is waking up in an abandoned car three days ago, with Soul on the car’s license plate. I thought it sounded cool enough.”

               He was too lame to be a monster, she thought to herself as she began to holster her gun, but still eyeing the man/creature/fluke unsurely. His hands stayed in the air until she rolled her eyes, and he slowly lowered them, adam’s apple bobbing ferociously.

               “What about you? Who _are_ you?” Soul’s cautiously lowered himself to pick up the Jiffy, red gaze still on her in fear she would shoot him while he wasn’t looking. He placed it by the strawberry preserves and plate of white bread slices on the counter.

               “Name’s Maka.” That’s all she would leave it at, for now. She still didn’t know who or what he was, and besides, she couldn’t be bothered to try and take care of a case when she was still on the hunt for something else.

               There was silence as either refused to move from their spot. A stalemate, in a cabin that she should’ve been sleeping in already, damnit.

               An awkward cough came from the other body.

               “Do you want a sandwich?”

               “No.”

               “Alrighty then. Can I make mine without you shooting me in the back?”

               She pondered this for a minute. Sure, he hadn’t lunged yet, and instead of dangerous he seemed kind of… lost. But she _so_ did not want this to come bite her in the ass while she was busy chasing Mommy dearest- the more distractions, the harder it was to try and tail her. Momma was a hunter, and a damn good one.

               “For now,” was the answer she settled on, dragging a dining room chair to face Soul.

               “This is going to be a long night.”

 


	2. Dream On

Neither of them slept. The distrust in the house was too thick, both afraid the moment they slept the other would be their demise.

               So instead, much to Maka’s surprise, they talked. At first, it was awkward, full of long silences, and mostly the effort of Soul, who chose to lean against the counter for now. Maka preferred to stare at him with hard eyes. That was, until he started to talk about three days ago, when he was ‘born’. She couldn’t help the part of her that loved to solve the puzzle of what goes bump in the night, even if the bump was just a kind of tame.

               “I woke up in this Kia that was parked in the parking lot of this large abandoned hanger, it looked like. Everything hurt, like this _deep_ ache.” His hands clutched his chest, as if the ache lingered. “I followed the roads into a town, where I found a place called Roadrunner.”

               “That’s a diner.” Maka piped up, plopping her head into one of her palms, semi-interested.

               “Well, yeah. I learned that walking in. That is, until the waitress dropped this pot of coffee and screamed. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran. Found what I thought was an empty house I could hide out in for a while, until I figure out what happened to me.”

               “How?” The hunter scoffed, unclipping her knife from its sheathe, cleaning the dirt from under her nails.

               In exasperation, Soul tossed his hands in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything, clearly.”

               Another pause. Maka shifted in her seat. Part of her oath was to help people. Maybe she could make a few calls or send him Blake and Tsu’s way so she could get back on the road. Leaving him helpless felt wrong at this point.

               “I have people who do.” She said finally, tugging at one of her pigtails a little nervously, pulling her phone from her pocket. A picture of her cat, Blair, greeted her as she unlocked it, scrolling through her contacts.

               “Whaaaaaat are you doing?” Nerves jangled in the man’s voice. Clearly, he was less than eager for the world to acknowledge him, considering the first few people who did either shrieked in terror or threatened his life.

               “Helping you. Now shut it.” The girl snapped, placing the call on speaker. The ring filled the small kitchen/dining/living room before an even louder noise probably filled the entirety of the cabin.

               “Maks, what’s up?” Fucking Blake and his lack of volume control. “I thought you were looking for Mom.”

               “I am. I just happened to run into an, uh, incident in La Junta.” At this, she looked up at said incident, who was staring uneasily back at her.

               “Are you okay? What happened? Do I need to send- “?

               “I’m fine. I just need your help. Do you still have Poppa’s journal?”

               Some rustling. An aggravated grunt.

               “TSU, HAVE YOU SEEN ALBARN’S JOURNAL?” Maka clapped her hand over the speaker, cringing. Soul stuck his pinky in one ear and twisted it in exaggeration, clearly annoyed by loud noises. Not that she could blame him; her adoptive sibling was easy to grate the nerves.

               In the background, a soft feminine voice mumbled that yes, it was under the cooler. Maka felt the vein in her temple begin to throb. If he ruined that thing, she would kill him. She meant it this time.

               “Alright, what we looking at Maks?”

               Slowly, Maka described all of Soul’s symptoms. White hair, red eyes, sharp teeth, no memory of any past life. There were the sounds of pages rustling, Blake humming, and Soul sliding to sit down on the floor, apparently too tired from standing to bother holding their standoff. Not like it mattered much, seeing as she was trying to solve his dilemma, God help her.  

               “The only thing I see is when he met up with an Albino lady in Theodore. People thought she was a witch, but she was just a shut in with a genetic condition.”

               Fucking hell. Of course, it’s her luck she manages to find some new breed of supernatural that was a goofy albino sharkface. Soul’s head thunked against the cabinet as he lamented her misery in the form of a long exasperated groan.

               “Do you think you can take this one over for me? I don’t want the trail to go cold.”

               At this, the white-haired anomaly looked at her in horror. Well he could deal with it- looking a gift horse in the mouth is a good way to end up kicked, or in their world, dead. Some hunters weren’t so nice as her. They like to shoot first and ask questions later.

               Blake coughed awkwardly, and instantly her heart sank.

               “I would, but you know Tsu and I are taking a break after what happened to her brother,” Maka cringed, instantly feeling guilty. “Unless, of course, you’re in danger, in which case-“

               “Nah, I’m okay. This one seems like an easy fry. You take care of yourself.”

               “You too Maks. You call if you need me, you hear?”

               “Alright.”

               After she hung up, she looked at the man with a sour face.

               “What are we going to do with you?”


	3. Don't Bring Me Down

She was now faced with a dilemma. Engrained in her was the age-old motto; save people, hunt things. Soul happened to be stuck in what was a limbo of the two- not quite people, but not quite thing, either. But she was also desperate to find Momma and drag her back home, to fix their family. That was her responsibility, but now so was this mopey _whatever_ who was trying not to fall asleep as he sat on the floor.

               Maka paced now, thick black combat boots thudding against the floorboards. Part of her wanted to say fuck it, kid you’re on your own, good luck, and go running in the direction of Pueblo where there was last sighting of her mother. But part of her, the part of her that still saw good and hope and light in a dark world, told her that it would eat away at her for years to come if she did. Lord knows there was enough things to keep her up at night. Momma had probably deserted that town three weeks ago anyhow, just like every other one Maka managed to follow her to.

               She cursed loudly, kicking the chair, startling Soul fully awake. There was only one option she saw, and she didn’t like it. She was pretty sure Soul wouldn’t either.

               “Do you have any things?” She asked angrily, scrolling through her phone again, looking for an address. She would drop him off, let _him_ deal with it, and have he hands clean of this whole ordeal. One minor bump in the highway full of potholes.

               The man stared at her as if she had a second head.

               “Right. Zombie boy woke up with only a Kia to his name. _Literally._ ” She hissed as his eyes blew wide with horror.

               “Am I a zombie for real?”

               “No. Zombie’s are voodoo, and they sure as hell don’t look like you.” Images of Sid came to mind and she frowned, thoughts circling back to her original goal. “Anyway, I know another guy who knows more. I’d call him, but he’s off the grid. I’ll have to take you to him.”

               “How do I know this isn’t a plot to kill me?”

               “I guess you don’t.” Maka said, grabbing her duffel and standing to stare at Soul.

               With visible conflict he rose slowly, white tee shirt now with a few wrinkles thanks to sweat and his sitting position. At least she knew he could sweat, meant his body temperature was human. Even with his exhaustion, something burned behind his eyes she couldn’t place. Why he trusted her, she didn’t know; she wasn’t disguised as someone of the law, or a nurse, or anyone else that let a helping hand. Maka was _herself_ right now, dark ripped jeans and pigtails and all, and yet here this man was following her out the creaky door.

               He was probably just desperate. Not that she could blame him- given his situation. If it were her, she would be too. No family, no friends, and named after a sad little boxy car, Soul was the most pathetic monster she had the pleasure of meeting.

               “That’s _your car?_ ” Soul’s awe dragged her out of her own head, and she looked up.

               Sitting on the patchy green and brown lawn was her Poppa’s Chevy Bel Air she had yanked from the garage, in all it’s baby blue glory. Poppa had loved the car, while he was sober. Taking it had been a sort of revenge for checking out on her and Blake when Momma left, but now it served as a reminder of home while she travelled the States.

               “It is now.” She couldn’t help the smugness in her voice. The man’s dropped jaw stroked her ego. She could’ve sworn that she saw a little bit of drool on the corner of his mouth, but it could’ve been the bad lighting.

               “No wonder you gave me such shit for the Kia. This thing…” Soul whistled, approaching the car to stroke her surface. There was a toothy grin on his face, and it should’ve been eerie with those sharp teeth, but on him it was just… endearing.

               Maka quickly dispelled that thought and opened the driver side, throwing her green burlap duffel over the seat to sit in the back. A single black trash bag was on the back floorboard, made to keep out the clutter that came with travelling the road. She may not like her father a lot right now, but she sure as hell loved this car.

               “You going to sit there and coo or can we get a move on?”

               Startled out of his reverie, he quickly jumped into the car, gently closing the door. The hunter scoffed at his dazed look and goofy grin. It was reminiscent of a kid playing his first video game or falling in love.

               “I think I was a car guy in my past life.”

               “Or Bella here just makes you think that. Will you start my navigation for me?”

               Soul fumbled with her Google maps, accidently clicking out of the app briefly trying to get the thing to work with the slow signal the small town was cursed with. Maka snatched it out of his calloused hands, grumbling all the while, but not before he saw her background.

               “A cat? I took you more as a dog person.” The woman was startled to see a shit eating grin on his face. One piece of personal information and he ran with it, the little ass. The moment he didn’t feel like he was in danger he turned into a goddamn _gremlin_ , just her luck.

               “Dogs are too needy. Cats kind of do their own thing but still love you at the end of the day.” Why was she even so defensive? The stress of chasing after her mother for six months must be putting cracks in her normally hardened demeanor. She was a second-generation hunter, not a whiny middle schooler.

               With a firm snap of her hand, she threw the car into reverse and looked over her shoulder.

               “Let’s get you home, Sharkboy.”

              

              


End file.
